When he looked into the little fellow's winsome face he seemed strangely moved.

But then in these later days it was always so with the old man; never a child did he see but that long-hidden memories flowed again, and once more he seemed to be looking on his own boy, gone ages and ages ago.
"He and his mother are stopping at our house," said Hugh, meaning to tell how he had come to find them in their extremity, later on, when possibly the child was not present to hear what he said.
"I've just got a small amount of work to finish, and then I'm done for the week," said the brawny smith, as he arose again, winking very fast, it seemed to Hugh, for some reason or other.

"Here's a bench you can both sit on, and watch the sparks fly from the anvil when I get my hammer busy.

Likely the lad has never seen the same before, and it is always deeply interesting to children, I've found." So they made themselves comfortable.

Little Joey was a bit tired after his long walk, and leaned confidingly up against Hugh, who had thrown an arm about him.
The smiting of the red bar with the hammer caused a shower of sparks to fly in every direction.